


Spectre & Scorpion

by nimic



Category: AR∀GO ロンドン市警特殊犯罪捜査官 | Arago
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hunt Twins as Crimelords, Organized Crime, Spider & Scorpion Verse, Unhinged Hunt Twins, just a bit, just a little bit of feral energy - as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimic/pseuds/nimic
Summary: A one-shot where, instead of pulling away from each other in the aftermath of the fire, Arago and Ewan refuse to let go of the last shreds of family they have left. A story about turning fear into obsession, and then turning obsession into a weapon to make this hell-hole world their bitch.AU ref/source in the end note :3
Kudos: 1





	Spectre & Scorpion

The Hunt twins were in the hospital for a week. Neither of them had been grievously injured in the fire. Young Ewan's arm had been cleaned, stitched, and bandaged in under an hour, then the boys had been moved to a set of beds next to each other to await a more thorough check-over in the morning. The nurses had whispered, then, of poor innocents. Their parents taken from them so young, their entire lives up to that point lost to flames. And that cut, had that been from debris? Perhaps some glass from a broken window? Certainly, one might call it a knife wound at first blush, but how could that possibly be. They were children, and while the investigation into the fire had just barely started, let alone concluded, signs were pointing distinctly _away_ from attempted anything quite so... violent in nature.

The morning had found the two curled into each other in the same bed. Waking them was easy, as on edge as they must have been following such a traumatic event, the poor dears. Getting them to let go of each other had been another matter. No nurse wanted to out and say it, but there had been something dark and violent in those children's eyes as their grips had tightened on each other, like strays backed into a corner.

The nurses had brushed it off. How insensitive, to feel unsettled by children dealing with trauma not a day old! Separation anxiety was to be expected, of course, following such a sudden loss. There, nothing much worse than some scrapes and bruises from rushing out of the house as it'd come down. The children, fully looked over, were told to wait for a psychologist to come and speak with them, followed by child services. And if the twins had death grips on each other when the adults had gently explained to them that they'd do their best to keep the two together, but they might get separated in the system, then that too was to be expected.

※

Children in the system could learn quickly all sorts of things. Like which adults to trust, which teenagers and which other kids. What was easy to keep on your person at all times because you refused to risk losing it. What hiding places were best for objects and what places were best for growing children. How to throw a punch, and how to take one right back. How to hide or explain away all manner of injuries and broken or missing property. The worth of money, and how much of it one can take before it becomes noticeable. What things children were willing to trade for, what teenagers would enlist help to get their hands on, what it took to bribe or threaten an adult, and what people you could trick into thinking they were using you, when it was the other way around.

Perhaps their skills were not quite up to snuff, but they would get there. Ewan had a mind like a steel trap, and nothing they learned would be forgotten. Arago learned best by doing, so the skills they developed stayed in his body and grew with him.

Together they were magnetic. Unsettling, but magnetic.

※

Rio stayed their friend, of course she did. They met at the same parks whenever they could, spent time together at the library or at Rio's house when one of her parents was available to watch over them. And when she moved away, they stayed in touch. After the fire, well, the twins had seemed reluctant to let go of her, and it'd made sense.

And somehow, by virtue of that relationship that had stayed so strong, her parents had made it so she that had been able to visit once every few years.

It became apparent, then, that they were building something. Something bigger than the petty yard fights from their youth, bigger than lying to adults to get out of trouble. Bigger than _just_ trouble. She'd wanted in. What were they, if not family? Closer than blood or romance, partners there for each other at every turn. She'd wanted in, and they'd slowly acquiesced when she had shown that it meant more to her than anything else.

More to her than her father and his legacy, even.

They'd stolen a pack of gum from a store while out with her, and she had blinked, then ignored it. They'd gone bigger - snacks, drinks. They'd offered some to her, and she'd taken it. The next time it was food they'd stolen and offered, she'd proffered back her own little spoils. Their grins had been something just barely short of feral - they were in _public_ \- but she'd felt some restless energy sharpening her own responding smile.

※

They had decided, early on, on code names. Spectre, for Arago. His white hair and pale skin the obvious reason - he looked like a ghost. And perhaps then people would not realize how quiet his steps were and that there was an edge of lethality that he carried with him everywhere. Scorpion, for Ewan. The hidden dagger at Spectre's back, ready and able to poison any threats. A red herring as well, because no one would ever have Ewan pegged as the aggressive poisonous one, spoiling for a fight, eager to watch their enemies suffer.

※

Finding Patchman had always been one of their secret plans. There was no point in having every runner and their mother know that the Spectre and Scorpion had some sort of vendetta against the mass murderer, so they hadn't advertised it. What they _had_ done was make it a requirement that any and all "strange occurrences" be reported back to superiors, then slowly up the chain of command.

"For everyone's safety," they'd said it was. Not that it wasn't, but perhaps safety had become a secondary concern years ago among the creaks of a house going up in flames.

In the end, they had been just barely on the cusp of twenty when they'd compiled their multitude of leads into something concrete. Then just short of twenty-one when they'd put that information to good use.

There were many sayings about vengeance, about how you had to dig your own grave alongside your enemy's, or about how living a better life and forgiving was the ultimate vengeance. What a joke. Arago and Ewan had shared several laughs over those over the years. They'd made themselves great, their lives and legacies too big to be toppled by something like _revenge_. And the vengeance they had extracted had been complete. Slowly and steadily chipping away at the resources Patchman must have built up over years and years and _years_ of killing and stealing and living beyond the scope of a normal human life. Then the coup de grace - a honey pot.

Arago, resurfaced, alone and friendless and in desperate search for Patchman himself. Isolated, easy pickings. Ha.

To see that rotting grin twist into blankness was already a rush. And then, as those fleshy burned lips had turned further down, Arago's own plump and healthy lips had stretched into a feral grin, exposing more teeth than should be in any well-meaning smile. And then Ewan, behind Patchman, with, of all things, a _taser_ ramped up to its maximum, and tools enough to get what they wanted. To crush Patchman so thoroughly it wouldn't matter if he _did_ somehow live through it.

They threw him to the ground, electricity coursing through his already over-taxed flesh. Drugs came next, though none with anaesthetic properties. Was Patchman even one to still feel pain? When his body was in a constant state of burning and decaying? It didn't matter, so long as he _stayed_. And then it was the turn of rib shears and surgical knives so they could dig and dig and _dig_.

Brionac was beautiful. A pure light shining through torn flesh and thick dark blood, untarnished by the body that housed it. It was Arago who reached in to take it, but both of the twins had relished the piercing cry of rage and impotence from the body between them.

Patchman's entire life, his existence, his _purpose_ \- and their own revenge - in their hands at last.

It was years built on trusting their instincts that guided Arago's hand to place Brionac right above where his heart was beating strong and heavy, pumping adrenaline through his veins. The light didn't dim as it melted through his skin like it wasn't even there. Arago's skin glowed with it - bright, pure, powerful. _Whole._ He was like an angel that was meant to be, Ewan thought. All that light - Arago's hair whiter than it had any right to be, his eyes sparkling like gems, his skin alight with a flush that was beyond exhilaration.

And at the moment they'd thought was the peak of their revenge, it got _sweeter_.

Because Patchman, gods bless him, had just enough life in that lie of a body to yell one more time. To try and _reach out_ towards Arago. His forbidden fruit, his twisted dream. One final moment of defiance and despair, and then whatever force had kept his ruined vessel together, whatever had been able to spur that final movement, left. The arm thudded back onto the ground, dead and half-decayed already. There were no final twitches, no stuttering exhale. Just a stop, a simple end to a long, bloody legacy.

Arago laughed, then. Ewan joined him, their voices tinged with a bit of hysteria. Because this was it, this was what they'd wanted all those years ago, what they'd worked towards all this time. They forgot their future plans then--a syndicate, an empire, those were nothing to this moment. This was _it._ Arago had almost cried, Ewan could tell. There was a tightness to his eyes that only Ewan and Rio could recognize. Then Ewan gripped his shoulder, and it had been warm, but it hadn't burned. It hadn't burned, and that was enough. He dragged his brother into a hug.

It would have been touching, except for the still smouldering, still _oozing_ , corpse between them.

**Author's Note:**

> spider & scorpion AU from >>[here](https://aragomanga.tumblr.com/au)<< !  
> (search for "spider & scorpion" on the page or scroll to the bottom!)
> 
> did i switch arago's codename? yes. do i care? no. spectre is a sexy name so i will take what i want. definitely not because i couldnt figure out how to explain spider as a codename choice with how i set this whole thing up. nope. does rio have a codename? probably, but i certainly don't know it.


End file.
